Baby Blues at at Yellow Wedding
by MizJoely
Summary: Imogen was six and Milo was three and the wedding was today and Milo. Wasn't. Happy.


_A/N: Originally posted on AO3 (collection called "Yellow") as a birthday gift for holnnes on tumblr. Lots of fluffy parentlock and wed!lock for all to enjoy!_

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><p>Imogen was six and Milo was three and the wedding was today and Milo. Wasn't. Happy.<p>

He hated all the noise and he hated all the strange grown-ups and he hated his little white suit with its stupid yellow bowtie and he hated how self-important Imogen was acting just because she got to be a stupid junior bridesmaid. He wasn't sure what a junior bridesmaid was, but he was fairly certain it wasn't any bigger a deal than being a ring bearer. All she got to hold was a bunch of stupid flowers, when he got to hold the pillow with the two shiny gold rings sewn on by blue threads that Daddy said he could break if he was good. Then he'd get to hand the rings to Uncle John and keep the pillow and go and sit down while stupid Immy had to keep standing up with Mummy and everyone else.

Stupid Immy who wouldn't stop fidgeting with her stupid bunch of white and yellow flowers and twirling in front of the mirror in the dressing room with Izzy Watson. They were singing some stupid song and looking at their stupid yellow sashes that matched Mummy's while Aunt Mary and Nana Hudson and Gran all fussed over Mummy's fancy white dress that made her look…not like Mummy.

Mummy really did look pretty, but when Nana Hudson leaned over and cooed, "Isn't Mummy just beautiful, Milo? Don't you just love her dress?" That. Was. IT.

"Mummy doesn't look right, she doesn't wear big white dresses an' I hate BABIES!" he shouted.

Immy and Izzy stopped twirling and all the grown-up ladies fell into a shocked silence and Mummy looked…oh, Mummy looked so sad and disappointed, like she always did when he'd done something Not Good and Milo couldn't bear to see her looking that way, so of course he did what Daddy always told him NOT to do.

He bolted.

As he left the room, the last thing he heard was Nana Hudson asking in a confused voice, "Who said anything about babies?"

oOo

Immy found him of course, hiding in the bottom of the coat cupboard and snuffling. "There you are! Stop being a baby, Milo," she scolded him as she yanked the door open and scowled down at him, looking just like Daddy in a temper. "Mummy and Daddy are getting married, you're not supposed to be a brat today, and you almost gave away the secret! You promised you wouldn't tell!"

"I'm not a brat an' I'm not a baby!" he said, wiping his nose with the back of his hand while Immy rolled her eyes at him. "But I din't mean to tell." A pair of fat tears welled from his eyes at the thought of how disappointed Daddy would be that he'd broken his promise.

"Don't worry, Mum just told Nana you're over-stimulated," Immy replied, sounding self-important the way she always did when she used a word he didn't know. Milo didn't care, though, as long as he wasn't in trouble for telling Mummy and Daddy's secret.

"Sorry, Immy," he said in a small voice. "I din't…I just…"

Immy sighed and moved further into the cupboard. "Budge over," she ordered, then pulled the door mostly shut, leaving the two of them in near darkness that Milo found very comforting. Almost as comforting as his big sister's arm slung across his shoulders as she plopped down next to him on the hard wooden floor. "Come on, Milo. Tell me."

"Mummy looks pretty, I din't mean that," he mumbled, leaning his head against her shoulder.

"She knows, she's not mad. But I did promise to bring you back," his sister added. "But not till you tell me what's going on in that funny little brain, yeah?"

He gave a half-hearted giggle at hearing Daddy's words coming from Immy's mouth, then sighed and lifted one hand toward his face. "Keep your thumb out of your mouth," she ordered him, and the hand dropped guiltily back to his lap although he was fairly sure she couldn't possibly see what he was doing. "Come on," she coaxed, her voice softening again. "Tell me."

"It's just…why do things hafta change?" The words burst out of him, words he hadn't even thought he had inside his 'funny little brain'. "Why do Mummy and Daddy hafta get married an' have another baby? Why can't things just stay the same?"

"A question I've asked many times myself," came a familiar voice from outside the cupboard.

Immy and Milo both looked up as the door opened to reveal their father standing there, wearing his fancy suit with the yellow flower on the collar. He folded himself down so that he was crouched in front of them, but he didn't look mad or disappointed, much to Milo's relief. "Immy, thank you for finding your brother but I believe he and I need to have a little chat in private." He smiled, not one of his fake smiles the children had both learned to identify practically from the cradle – not that he ever fake-smiled at them. No, Mummy would yell if he ever did, they both knew that much.

Immy stood up after hugging Milo. "My dress is wrinkly," she said, but Daddy just hugged her and told her she was pretty and sent her back to wait with Mummy and all the other ladies.

After she'd gone, Daddy actually squeezed right into the cupboard with Milo, pulled him onto his lap after crossing his legs ('criss-cross-applesauce' Milo could practically hear his teacher, Miss Plum, chirping) and hugged him. "I'm sorry, Milo," Daddy said after a minute, still cuddling him close. "I know change is hard for you. It's always been hard for me, too. Even good changes take some getting used to."

"Like weddings an' babies?" Milo asked with a snuffle.

"Like weddings and babies," Daddy confirmed. "Both are noisy and expensive and stressful, but in the end…well, I've been told they're worth it."

Milo sniffled again, and felt Daddy's fingers on his cheek, wiping away the last of the tears. "Milo, you do know Daddy's just joking, don't you? I wouldn't have either a wedding or children if I didn't want to."

"You would if Mummy said so," Milo replied confidently, and knew he'd said the right thing – even if he didn't know WHY it was the right thing – when Daddy laughed.

"Yes, that's true. And do you know why that is?"

He thought about it, head tilted to one side. "Cause you love Mummy?"

"Yes. And I love you and Imogen."

"But why do you hafta have a wedding then?" Milo asked, then added in a small voice, "And why do you hafta have another baby?"

Daddy sighed, and Milo waited, because Daddy always answered his and Immy's questions, no matter how much he didn't want to sometimes. "The wedding is because I love all of you so much. I want everyone to see how much I love you all, how proud I am of my family. Do you understand?"

Milo nodded. "I guess. But what about the baby?" His lower lip stuck out in a pout, and he knew Daddy would be able to tell even in the dark cupboard.

"Milo, just because we're having another baby doesn't mean we'll love you or your sister any less. Yes, the baby will take up a great deal of our time and attention for a while, but so did you when you were born, and so did Immy when she was born. But do you want to know a secret about babies?"

Milo nodded eagerly. "Yes, Daddy!" Milo loved knowing secrets, and he was usually quite good at keeping them, even though he'd done a Not Good job of it today. "Um, sorry I told Nana Hudson 'bout the baby," he said.

His father's hand ruffled his hair, and pulled him closer. Daddy pressed a kiss to his forehead. "No worries, Nana Hudson and the others just think it was a tantrum because of the stress of the day."

Normally Milo hated being thought of as a baby who still had tantrums, but not today. "Okay. But what's the secret, Daddy?"

"Every new baby you have makes you love your other children even more."

Milo squinted doubtfully up at Daddy. "For real?"

"For real." Daddy was using his most 'I mean it' voice, and Milo had learned to trust that voice.

"Okay, Daddy," he said, nestling against his father's chest. Daddy hugged him tightly, then tickled him until he squealed with laughter. "Daddy! Stop!"

"Right, then, my boyo, time for me to return you to your mother's side. I believe there is a satin pillow with two rings on it waiting for you to carry down the aisle, a very big responsibility and a very important job – unless you'd rather Imogen did it for you?"

"No, I get to do it!" Milo said, scrambling to his feet and tugging at Daddy's hand. "Come on, Daddy! Or she'll steal it!"

Daddy was still chuckling when they reached the room where Mummy and the other ladies were waiting. He knocked on the door and waited until it opened. Milo looked up and saw Gran, who smiled down and held out her hand. "Come along, sweetie, we've just enough time to clean you up a bit." Then she smiled at Daddy and told him to scoot, and Milo followed her into the room.

Once inside he marched right over to Mummy and hugged her around her waist. "Sorry, Mummy," he whispered, and in spite of her fancy dress she went right down on her knees and hugged him back.

"All better now, sweetie?" she asked, and he smiled and nodded.

She kissed the tip of his nose, making him giggle, then sent him off with Gran and Nana Hudson, who fussed over him and combed his hair and washed his face and tidied his clothes. Then he got to hold the pillow with the rings while Immy and Izzy said silly things about how cute he was, which he ignored.

After all, he knew who had the important job here today!


End file.
